


I Know, I Know, I Know (I Feel the Same as You)

by gotatheory



Series: Tastes Like You Only Sweeter Verse [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, OQ Prompt Party 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 17:37:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14061984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotatheory/pseuds/gotatheory
Summary: Four times Robin almost said "I love you" to Regina and one time she said it to him instead.





	I Know, I Know, I Know (I Feel the Same as You)

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 5 (Friday) of OQ Prompt Party. Prompts: 165. Secrets and lies, plus two of my special prompts: Tastes Like You verse - Robin accidentally tells Regina he loves her but covers it up stealthily and Tastes Like You verse - Regina says a first "I love you" to Robin.
> 
> The title is from Stars "The First Five Times."

_One._

The very first time, he’s balls-deep inside of her after having gone a week without her.

Thanksgiving break had always been hellish for him; campus would empty out as everyone went home for a holiday he has no cultural relation to. John’s always invited him to go back to Boston with him, so he wouldn’t have to spend it alone, but truthfully, it’s just another week to Robin, and he knows John’s parents probably have enough to worry about with the holiday than another mouth to feed. And if he’s really honest with himself, it’s not John he would want to spend a week with, anyway.

He and Regina aren’t dating, and she hadn’t even asked him to come home with her, to meet her family. Had only inquired about his plans, and knitted her brow a bit in something that he imagined was pity at the realization he’d be all alone.

But it was fine, really, having the apartment to himself and spending his days working on a few class assignments and playing games on his Xbox.

He missed Regina, everyday, spent way too many minutes with his phone in his hand and their text thread opened, thinking about sending her a message. He hadn’t, besides a dumb _Happy Turkey Day_ complete with a random assortment of food emojis, including ones that didn’t belong like the pizza one. She had laughed about it, and when he said that would be _his_ Thanksgiving dinner, had teased him about his meager meal. 

That had been it, until today, when she had texted to say she was coming back to campus early, that Tink wouldn’t be back until tomorrow…

And that’s how he’s here now, sweat rolling down from his temple as he thrusts his hips, burying his cock in her wet warmth. Fuck, she’s gorgeous, even more breathtaking than usual after going six days without seeing her in person. He’s not sure he’s going to last, not when she feels this perfect, not when she’s gripping at his biceps, nails digging into his skin as her head tilts back.

He buries his face in her neck, trying to block out the glorious sight of her, the sounds she’s making. “Fuck, Regina,” he groans, pushing deeper, slowing his rhythm for a moment just to enjoy how tight she is around him. He’s close, he needs a moment, but she’s writhing beneath him, rocking her hips insistently.

“Don’t stop,” she whines, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as her legs tighten around his waist. “Robin — _oh_!”

He can’t deny her anything, not even when his entire body is tense with trying to stave off his orgasm. So he speeds back up, pushing past his own desire to come, determined to push her over the edge first. He shifts over her, raising up on one hand and reaching back to grasp one of her legs, hooking his elbow under her knee.

The angle changes, has her crying out and him biting his lip as he fucks deeper into her.

“ _Mmm_ , oh fuck, Regina, you feel — _God_ so good,” he stutters out, and then his breath is rushing out of him, orgasm so close he could taste it. “ _Hnnng_ , gorgeous, come for me, please, I love you—”

He doesn’t even realize he’s said it at first, until he notices how still she’s gone beneath him. His hips lose their rhythm, everything thrown off by a confession he didn’t even know he was going to make, he hasn’t even thought about it but — it’s true. He loves her. Fuck, he loves the woman that is only supposed to be his fuck buddy, someone who has made it rather clear that they’re not in a relationship.

Robin looks up at her, sees her wide eyes, and he starts his hips moving back in that blissful motion, the one that had them both close to coming, and covers up his feelings with, “Your pussy, love your pussy, so tight, babe — _oh fuck_!”

She’s clenching around him, spasming as she’s taken over that edge, and Robin is right behind her, emptying into the condom.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

He is so god damn fucking fucked.

_Two._

They don’t mention his slip, don’t acknowledge it at all, and that’s okay with him. It doesn’t make it any easier, in fact it makes it worse, because now he knows. He knows he’s utterly besotted with her, that he _loves_ her, when at the start of the semester, he didn’t even like her. (That’s a lie, he has liked her from the moment he saw her, even when they were arguing during that class discussion. He liked her fire, the boldness with which she asserted her opinions, and her eyes, and her full lips.)

And now that he’s said it once, even when he covered it up (badly, but apparently deftly enough for her to let it slide), he doesn’t know how to stop almost saying it.

More than once, he’s bitten his tongue just as the words started to slip out, simply halted himself without finishing a sentence because he knew the next thing he’d say would be those three words.

It’s torture, and Regina knows something’s up. Every bitten off sentence, every thought left hanging and incomplete, she stares at him with confusion and waits for him to finish it.

He’s found a middle ground. He can’t tell her he loves her, but he can say what he loves about her. He peppers her with compliments instead, tells her she’s brilliant, beautiful, anything he can think of.

So instead of _I love you_ , he says, “God, your mind is amazing,” as he watches her solve some equation in her advanced calculus homework.

Or when she throws her head back and laughs, genuinely laughs in a way she does so rarely, he tells her, “I love your laugh,” and enjoys the shy way she ducks her head.

Perhaps his favorite way to not say it, is when she smiles just so because of something he’s done or said. Whenever he sees it, he just has to cup her cheek, and murmur, “There’s that elusive but satisfying smile I think about every time I close my eyes.”

_Three._

Becoming official should have made it easier, he thinks. Should have made him feel a little freer to say how he really feels about her, but instead, he becomes even more concerned about slipping up. He knows how much she didn’t want to be tied down, how afraid she was to be in this relationship, so telling her that he’s in love with her seems like the worst thing he could do right now.

And that’s okay, he’s okay with that, really. Just because he’s realized he’s been in love with her since November of last year doesn’t mean he has to tell her. He’ll just keep doing what he’s been doing since then; complimenting her and doting on her in small ways so that she might at least subconsciously realize the depth of his feelings for her.

As it is, they’ve moved in together, a major step that she had suggested nearly a month after they started dating. That alone was a huge bolster to his confidence in them. So he might love her, he might want to tell her privately and shout it from the rooftops, but he doesn’t.

Well, at least, he tries not to. Sometimes, it still sneaks out. When he’s making love to her, whether it’s slow and sweet or frenzied and fast, and he can’t help but gasp it into her neck, masking it with a comment on how wet she is, how perfect.

Then there are the more innocent times, like now. He’s on the phone, chatting to his sister in London, and Regina is gathering her supplies to go study in the library. She’s got a group project for her Bio class to work on, something she’s none too pleased about.

She emerges from their bedroom, her bag in hand, and walks over to him on the couch. “I’m heading out, babe,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I might be a little late for dinner, but I might grab something from campus, so don’t worry.”

“Mmkay,” he says absently, listening as Merida complains about some sexist git she’d had a coffee date with. “Love you,” he adds as Regina walks away, and it takes a second for it to click.

Regina seems to have not really noticed, until she pauses at the door, hand on the knob.

Robin mentally curses, and quickly says, “Yeah, I said I love you, Meri, you don’t have to sound so surprised. Tell Mum and Dad I love them too, okay? Bye!” And he hangs up on his confused sister, intending to text her immediately and explain the situation once Regina’s gone.

“Everything okay, gorgeous?” he asks, as casual as he can make it, and Regina turns around. Her smile is… interesting. Relieved, he thinks, but also tight at the edges, and he’s not sure what to make of it.

“Oh, yeah, I just thought I might be forgetting something. See you later,” she says, and he’s barely gotten his goodbye out before she’s opening the door and stepping through.

Robin releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his head falling back against the sofa cushion. Damn, he really needs to just _say it_ to her. He can’t keep doing this.

_Four._

He’s going to tell her. He has to, he can’t keep covering it, holding it in. He wants her to know, and though he could be risking everything, he has to believe that he’s not. Has to believe she feels the same way as him.

The problem with having held onto it for so long is now he wants it to be absolutely perfect once he tells her. He needs it to be romantic, and beautiful, and worthy of her.

He takes her on a date, takes her to her favorite restaurant, and for a walk along the beach. Spring is slowly coming, bringing a warmth to the lingering chill of winter, so it’s actually nice, with the lights of the town in the background and the whisper of the waves against the shore.

The moon is full and glorious, and when he looks at her, she takes his breath away, stunning him.

And suddenly, the words that have fallen from his lips so easily every other time catch in his throat.

“Robin?” she asks, brow knitting in concern when he stares.

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Though he wants to say it, those words pale in comparison to just how much he _loves_ her, how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. So instead of saying anything, he kisses her, and hopes she can recognize it for the admission he means it to be.

_Regina._

Regina wakes in the morning, delightfully sore after a rather enthusiastic, passionate night before. Robin had been ravenous, practically devoured her on the beach until she begged him to take her home, where they could be together properly and not worry about prying eyes and possible public indecency charges. Being in the privacy of their own home only made it worse, though, made him more desperate for her since he could have her without concern. He’d taken her in their living room, had guided her to the couch and kneeled before her, eating her out with a newfound fervor. It hadn’t been enough; he’d made her come and then carried her to bed, going down on her until she’d come two more times, until she was pleading for him, the ache to have him inside her so acute she thought she’d die from it. And he still took her again in the shower afterward, fingers driving inside of her until she trembled under the spray of water, gasping his name as bliss rolled through her.

God, it was a great night, from the date to the sex.

She stretches out, reaching for him, only to discover his side of the bed is empty, the sheets cooling. Frowning, she sits up, a little disappointed he’s woken before her. He’s so rarely up before her, and she’d hatched a plan to wake him up with her mouth around his dick, but he’s ruined it by getting out of bed first.

She hears him in the kitchen, her heart warming a bit at knowing he’s fixing breakfast. It’s their thing, something that was a part of their relationship before she even let it be a relationship. So she can forgive him for ruining her little surprise, just this once. Besides, it’s a weekend, and they have the whole day. Maybe once they eat, she’ll push him to the couch and get on her knees for him.

Regina slips into a clean pair of underwear and throws on one of his shirts, long enough that it reaches mid-thigh and leaving her covered enough for breakfast and any dessert she might partake in. When she emerges from their bedroom, she sees him in their kitchen, working on an omelet, it looks like.

She watches a moment, takes in his naked shoulders, the expanse of his back until her eyes reach his ass, clothed by sweatpants, the concentrated furrow of his brow as he flips the omelet in the pan. He’s adorable, attractive, his hair a mess from not brushing it after all the sex and the shower and sleep, fixing breakfast for just the two of them, and he’s hers.

He’s hers, and she loves him.

The realization is not a sudden one. She doesn’t know how to describe it, but it’s less a dawning, swamping awareness, and more as if a fact she has always known to be true has come to the forefront of her mind.

She loves him. The sky is blue. There are more, other obvious facts of the world, but this one is the most important right now: she loves him.

Regina breathes in, breathes out, deep and relaxed, and nods to herself. Walks over to him, and loops her arms around his waist, rising up just a little so she can press a kiss to his shoulder, rest her chin there.

“I love you,” she tells him, and he hesitates for a moment. She feels him stiffen, and her breath catches, fear growing quick as a weed, and then he relaxes.

Robin reaches to turn off the burner, turns in her arms. He cups her cheek, and says, “I love you, too,” and he smiles at her, wide, his teeth biting into his lip in an expression so familiar, one she loves as much as the man making it.

Tears spring to her eyes, happy, ecstatic tears, and then she’s kissing him, breakfast forgotten.


End file.
